Face Down
by Little-Miss-Rachel
Summary: A redhead came to him one night with tears in her eyes and blood trickling down her chin. She tells him the horrifying truth that he thought wasn't possible. Rated for adult situations.


_Face Down_

**Note:** -sigh- Yes, I'm back again with another one-shot. This is a much darker one, though. Rock music is inspirational! I can't help it… I like to listen to music! So… I hope you all enjoy. This is a new pairing for me but I've been wanting to write them together. Huge thanks to Katy for helping me narrow it down to this guy! ;D

Disclaimer: Is it sad that I don't own the characters or the title? I thought so. The title is owned by the AMAZING The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. They totally rock!

--

I never expected anything to get this bad. I've never had to deal with abuse. My mom and dad never believed in hitting someone. In my twenty nine years of living I have never seen someone beaten as badly as she was the night she came to my door. I had been lounging on the couch when she had stumbled onto my doorstep with blood trickling down the side of her mouth and a nasty bruise on her cheek. I didn't want to know where else she got hit.

I had asked over and over what happened to her, but she wouldn't respond. She just stood there for a second before looking up at me with tear filled eyes. I didn't know what to do. A few seconds later she was sobbing in my arms, mumbling something about her boyfriend. Everyone backstage knew how he treated her – like she was a piece of shit or a doormat that he could walk all over.

In the ring she was an animal; always working her hardest after her neck injury. I admired her for her strength. But to see her fall apart in my arms made me want to help her. She'd never actually talked to me before except when I had a match against Adam. I've "hurt" her a few times, but she's had worse bumps in the ring.

"Please let me stay here," She had whispered once her crying subdued. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she couldn't. When she began to limp into the living room I knew something wasn't right. How bad had he hurt her this time?

I helped her roll her pants up. Her once injured knee was swollen. When I ran to get some ice and a washcloth I heard her start to cry again. I never felt sympathetic, really. I was always one to look on the bright side and try to make the situation better. That was until she started to tell me how he hurt her. My blood ran cold, and my chest tightened. How could someone, drunk or not, hurt a woman?

She told me everything. How they were perfect when their relationship started seven years ago. Then she said it began to get bad. Her words jumbled together when she was talking about how he treated her during her neck injury. I was appalled at what he had done. She explained how he got even more aggressive once she started her storyline with Adam.

"Why do you put up with this?" I asked after she was done telling me. I didn't know what else to say. Everyone backstage knew he had hit her on different occasions. I just didn't think that "different occasions" would be about every night in a hotel room or at his house. She hadn't answered me and I doubt she ever will.

I dabbed gently at her cracked lip. When she winced I pulled the washcloth away quickly. She was probably faced with this kind of pain every night after he went to sleep. I couldn't imagine how it felt. The thought of her having to live with this pain, this abuse, every night made me feel sick to my stomach. I was disgusted. Anger rose in my body, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from yelling. I wouldn't yell at her. I'd yell to Matt who was at a hotel somewhere probably drunk and fucking some random ring rat.

I rolled her onto her side gently when I saw something as her shirt lifted up slightly. When I asked her if I could lift her shirt she only nodded. I knew she didn't want to talk anymore. She had just spilled her deepest, darkest secret to me. It was understandable. That was, until I saw what was under her shirt.

"What the fuck does he do to you…?" I had questioned when I saw the bruise on her back. It wasn't like any normal bruise. Oh no, it was horrific. It wasn't just black and blue like a regular bruise you get for bumping into a table. It was yellow, blue, black, and had a purple ring around the outside. A wave of nausea hit me when I examined it closer. She had welts on it.

I backed away from her slowly. I didn't know what to do. After seeing that I felt numb. Did he beat her with a belt or something that wasn't his hand? Was I in over my head? Could I actually help her with her problem? She turned back to me as slowly as she could. The terror and pain in her eyes made me crawl back towards her.

"Please," She had whispered. I didn't know what it meant, but I nodded anyway. She sat up gingerly which made me wonder if he had done something worse. My blue eyes met her hazel ones, and I realized I had to do something about this. I couldn't ignore what had happened.

I helped her up the stairs gently. I wasn't going to pick her up. I didn't know whether she wanted me to, and I didn't want to hurt her anymore than she already was. I led her into my bedroom despite her pleading with me to let her stay in the guest room. I had quickly told her no. I didn't want to leave her side after finding out her dark secret.

Once she was comfortable on my bed I offered her water. She drank it quickly but winced when she licked her bottom lip. I held out a bottle of painkillers to her but she pushed them away. I set the glass and the bottle next to her on the bedside table and stood there for a few minutes.

I didn't know if she trusted me or not. The look in her eyes said she did but when I settled onto the bed next to her she moved away. I held in the obscenities that wanted to stream out of my mouth when I heard her sniffle. I hated that she was crying because of him. I rolled onto my side so I was facing her. She had her eyes squeezed closed but tears were trickling out of them.

She was probably ashamed. I don't know what would make her think that but I had the feeling she thought I would think she was weak. I watched her a few minutes after she stopped crying before turning onto my back. I stared up at the white ceiling that looked gray in the darkness of my bedroom.

"John…" I heard my name being called. I turned my head to look at her. She looked so helpless. A lone tear moved in a zig-zag pattern down her cheek. I wiped it away so gently that my thumb barely touched her cheek.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," She whispered. I felt my heart breaking. I never wanted to see anyone like this. The broken look on her face made me move closer to her. She scooted away from me. I gave her a pleading look and reached my hand out to her.

"You can trust me," I muttered. When some of her vibrant red hair slipped into her eyes I pushed it away slowly. She grasped my hand like a child would and whimpered. "I promise I'll never hurt you like Matt did."

"He promised me, John," She cried, "He promised he wouldn't hurt me."

I pulled her against me when she began to shake uncontrollably. I held her against my body and stroked her hair. I whispered soothing words in her ear, but I guess it made her cry even more. It felt like forever before she finally stopped and her breathing became slow and labored. I felt her relax in my arms, and I knew she was asleep.

All that night I held her close and thought of ways I could kill Matt Hardy with my bare hands. I came up with fifty two ways before I fell into a restless sleep. Images of the woman in my arms getting beaten kept popping into my head when I closed my tired eyes. When I woke up that morning she was watching me with puffy, red eyes.

We didn't say anything to each other for a long time. We just laid there and watched each other. It was so quiet that I could hear the highway that was miles away. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and cracked.

"Thank you," She whispered. I gave her warm hand a gentle squeeze and offered her a small smile. I didn't say anything. She knew what the gesture meant.

"Tell me you won't go back to him," I whispered after a few minutes of complete silence again. Her hazel eyes that were staring at my bare chest looked up to meet my eyes.

"I don't know if I can do that," She admitted with a frown. I put a hand under her chin and ran my thumb up and down her jaw slowly.

"You can do it. And I'll be by your side the whole time," I ran my thumb over her lip gently. I wasn't surprised when she winced. She took my hand in hers and tears filled her eyes again.

"What if he doesn't let me?"

"I'll make him let you go," I growl angrily. If he wouldn't let her go willingly then I'd make him. All I knew was that she wasn't going to spend another night or day with the jackass.

"John," She said quietly before sitting up. I sat up with her and rubbed her arm soothingly.

"Amy?" I asked when she didn't continue. She turned her head towards me, and a small smile was on her face.

"I think I can do it," She said with a little confidence in her voice. I was more than elated. I was ecstatic. I lay back on the mattress and when she joined me I raised an eyebrow slightly.

When she cuddled into my arms I let out a small sigh of relief. She was safe with me. And if Matt Hardy had a problem with Amy staying with me then he could come and sort it out with me. He could come and blame me about his ruined relationship; he could blame me for making Amy run from him.

I began to think about everything that had happened, and a tiny bit of fear moved through my veins. Would he come after us? Could he hurt her even more than he already did? But when Amy took in a deep breath and moved closer to me I realized it didn't matter.

I looked down at the redhead in my arms and smiled. Matt Hardy would get the shock of his life when he found out that his girlfriend had run to me, John fuckin' Cena. He would probably come after us; try to make Amy pay for everything she did. But I won't let him. When I was sure she was asleep I kissed her forehead.

"Fuck you, Matt Hardy," I whispered. If I met up with him in the hallway at work, I'd ask him if he felt like a man when he pushed her around. I'd ask him if he had fun abusing women. And when he did respond, I'd let him know exactly how I felt about it.

--

**Note:** Shocker, right? Especially coming from me, someone who absolutely hates John Cena. Yeah… So… I hope you all enjoyed and I may make this into a chapter fic. Or I'll just do a sequel or something. I don't know yet. I'm still trying to work it all out. Anyway, reviews are much appreciated! Tell me what you thought, if it sucked, if you loved it, etc.

**Rachel**


End file.
